So last week I got another mil put in my band and now it really seems to be working – but I’ve had this niggling in my mind that maybe I could get too tight and rupture or erode my stomach. After all, my stomach is being nipped by a bit of silicon, am sure that has inherent risks before you throw in half chewed food, PBing and the rest. This plays on my mind constantly…what if something goes wrong? Is being slim really worth dying for?
So, three days after my fill I’m travelling down to London for a few days in our southern office and decide to order lunch in the train station. There’s Burger King, too claggy. There’s Costa, all carbs. Then I spot a new deli which sells lovely salads, bingo! That’ll do nicely. So I order a chicken salad and a coffee and the guy brings it over. I start digging in, small bites, lots of chewing, I get through a handful of food on my plate but my habit of forgetting to chew has me in slight discomfort, enough to make me want to find the nearest loo. While trying to hold down this bit of food I wander to the bathroom and begin ejecting it into the nearest unoccupied cubicle. The toilets are rank, covered in shit and smelling like month old piss, I’m slowly PBing but close to vomiting now because of the dreadful stench. I look into the shit stained pan and there are bits of dark red in my PB. I PB some more and more red comes up, like ruby red..BLOOD RED! I’m vomiting and panicking as the toilet becomes a thick dark red. Oh my god am haemorrhaging, I need to call 999!! I rush out of the loo back to my seat all the way thinking how stupid I had been and starting to regret my decision more and more. In my hurry to eject the food causing me discomfort I’d left my phone on the table. Is it quicker to get Taxi direct to hospital or wait for ambulance to show up. Shaking I pick the phone up about to dial 999 to get me to hospital when I glance at my plate. Surrounding the lovely lettuce leaves and the char grilled chicken is the remnants of two slices of beetroot, yes BEETROOT… For fucks sake, it wasn’t blood but the beetroot I’d hastily ingested only a moment earlier. Panic over, I pay the bill as I walk out feeling spectacularly stupid.